


Only if I Touch (do i let myself be touched)

by Deathandcommas



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Angst, Book 2: Wayward Son, Boys Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Frottage, Grinding, Hurt/Comfort, Inspired by Poetry, Kissing, M/M, No Spoilers for Book 2: Wayward Son, Poetry, Sharing a Bed, i wasnt going to make it smutty but it happened, just a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:08:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24191833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathandcommas/pseuds/Deathandcommas
Summary: Set during Wayward Son, Simon and Baz are left alone in a hotel room for a little while. Simon tries to confront his issue with Baz touching him. Sadness and a little bit of grinding ensue.Inspired by the poem "Reading Sonnevi on a Tuesday Night" by Wayne Miller.
Relationships: Penelope Bunce & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 10
Kudos: 135





	Only if I Touch (do i let myself be touched)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> I was reading some poetry for class and came across "Reading Sonnevi on a Tuesday Night" by Wayne Miller. This work is inspired by that poem, and the title is taken from it as well. 
> 
> Also, this is my first time writing anything smutty, so hopefully it's not cringey lol. 
> 
> Enjoy!

**SIMON**

I haven’t been alone with Baz for this long since his last night at Watford, the night of the Leavers’ Ball. Penny and Shepard left our hotel room hours ago, with no word on where they were going or when they’d return.

We’re sitting side-by-side on the bed, firmly on top of the covers. We haven’t shared a bed since leaving England. We’ve barely even touched. Baz has been reading something on his phone for a long time, and I’ve been quiet, trapped in thoughts I usually try to avoid; worrying about me and Baz, wondering about my family, missing my magic. It hurts to think about everything I’ve lost, that feeling of power, the unstable buzz beneath my skin. I feel helpless without it, naked without my armor. 

Baz’s hand found mine on the mattress between us an hour ago, and it’s still sending thrills of excitement through my body every so often. We’ve been together almost a year, and holding his hand is still so exciting. Almost a year together, and we’ve never shared a bed for the whole night. Almost a year together, and we’ve never gone past second(ish) base. We’re always careful. We always stop before it goes too far. I want more, but I know I need to deal with my shit about him initiating contact. It feels selfish, only taking what I want, never relinquishing control. He doesn’t seem to mind, doesn’t give any outward sign that it bothers him, but I know I would feel terrible if the roles were reversed. I have to give him more. I have to try.

As if he can hear my thoughts, Baz puts away his phone and looks over at me, turning off the tv absently. 

“When are we expecting them back?” he asks. 

I don’t know. “I don’t think they ever said, didn’t even say where they were”. 

He squeezes my hand, smiles nervously. Why is he nervous? He’s literally the most perfect person in the world. _I’m_ the one who should be nervous. 

“We haven’t had much time alone lately. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in days. I miss you”.

Well that breaks my fucking heart. I smile at him and squeeze his hand back. “I miss you too”.

He turns to face me fully and strokes my cheek with his free hand. This is fine. Nice even. His eyes are fierce, full of some deep emotion that I can’t place. I lean into his hand and close my eyes, let him trace my cheekbone, across my brow, down my nose. His thumb comes to rest on my bottom lip and I inhale sharply, maybe too sharply. The bed shifts beneath us and his breath ghosts across my face. _I love him, I love him, I love him._

His mouth is on mine. I’m trying to relax, to just let it happen. He grows bolder, opens his mouth against mine, just slightly, just to let it close again over my lips. He’s moving now, still holding my face in one hand, gripping my side tightly in the other, pressing closer to me, sliding his hand down my side, onto my thigh, squeezing. _I_ _love him. I love him. It’s too much._

I pull away gasping and look up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly. Baz has sat back on his heels. The absence of his hands on me is both a loss and a relief. I feel his eyes on me, but I can’t look. I don’t want to see the disappointment on his face, even though I know he always hides it. He takes my hand again and I start, but don’t yank it away. 

“It’s okay Simon, I’m sorry”.

He’s so good. “It’s _not okay!_ It will never be okay! What the fuck is wrong with me?” Am I crying? I try to discreetly wipe at my face. No, not crying. There’s that at least.

“Nothing! Nothing is wrong with you, it’s alright I promise. I never want to make you uncomfortable”.

That’s it though isn’t it ? It shouldn’t make me uncomfortable when my fucking boyfriend touches me. I can’t speak through the lump in my throat, but Baz seems to understand (of fucking course he does, he’s bloody perfect). He tugs me towards him, gently, slowly. There’s plenty of space for me to pull away if I want. I let myself collapse into his side, let him wrap an arm around me. He turns the tv back on and I rest my head on his shoulder. This isn’t too much. This is okay. It’s nice. 

I wish I didn’t disappoint him all the time. I want to let myself be touched, kissed, taken. I want everything he has to offer, so why do I always push him away? Why is it that only if I touch do I let myself be touched? 

It’s getting late. I think Baz is dozing beside me. The tv channel isn't even playing shows anymore. It’s just soft Mozart against a revolving scene of serene landscapes. There’s no light coming in through the curtains. Are Penny and Shepard even coming back? I shoot her a quick text.

**Simon 11:43 :** u guys coming back tonite???

 **Penny 11:43 :** Why so urgent 😏

 **Simon 11:44 :** stfu just wondering

 **Penny 11:45 :** I think we’ll be gone a while 

**Penny 11:45 :** Have fun 😏🍆

 **Simon 11:45 :** i hate you

I nudge Baz’s foot with mine. His eyes open slowly, but I don't think he was asleep.

“Penny said they won’t be back for a while”

Baz grins, “Wonder what her and Shepard are up to?”

“I don’t even want to think about it.”

I shift towards him, “I’m sorry about earlier, really”

“I know you are, and it’s really okay. We’ll do whatever you need, as long as you need. I waited for you for eight years and now I have you. That’s all I need. I can wait for you to be comfortable with everything else”.

Dammit why does everything he says make me want to cry? “You’re too good for me”.

“I’m really not, Snow”.

Then I’m crowding into his space, gripping his wrists, pressing my mouth against his. I coax his lips apart, licking into his mouth. My mind catches up with me and I pull back, just barely. “Is this okay?”

“Everything is okay Snow, everything. I’ll take anything you want to give me”.

I feel guilty. So guilty. Because he’s so eagerly taking whatever scraps I deign to give him like my attention is something precious he may never have again. _When people show you who they are_ … but I don’t want him to believe me. Because then he’ll leave me, and even though that’s what I deserve, I don’t think I could bear it. I’m so eager for these moments too. 

My hands are twisted in his hair, my tongue is sliding into his mouth. I clamber onto his lap to straddle him and his arms immediately wrap around me. Kissing him is unlike anything else. He’s so cold, but he always makes me feel like I’m on fire.

He’s responding enthusiastically now, all signs of trepidation vanished. I bite at his bottom lip and he whimpers, sliding his hands up the back of my shirt. I move down to suck at his neck -- maybe today will be the day I finally leave a mark on him -- and his breath stutters against my ear. His hands are running up and down my back, across my shoulders, along my spine, down to my belt, _past_ my belt. He’s groping my ass, and this isn’t something we’ve done a whole lot. 

My blood is rushing downwards. I wonder if he can hear it. I lift up off his lap to give him better access, inadvertently pressing my hips against his stomach. I groan at the contact as he gasps. I’m desperate for more of him. He lets me pull his shirt off and I sit back on his lap, grinding down into him, swallowing his moan. I feel a little strange as I wiggle my hips against his, like a girl I saw in a video once. But Baz is gasping and writhing beneath me, so I probably don’t seem as stupid as I feel, and it feels so fucking _good_. His hands move to my belt buckle and he looks up at me, flushed and breathless and stunning, “Can I?” 

I nod, let him undo my belt. It’s painfully slow. He slides it out from my belt loops and unbuttons my trousers. He flips us over and I’m lying on my back as he drags off my trousers, leaving nothing but the thin fabric of my pants between Baz and my achingly hard cock. He’s staring at me, drinking everything in. Just as I’m starting to get nervous, he shimmies out of his own trousers and slowly lowers himself until he’s just on top of me, legs enclosing mine, mouth pressed to my neck. He nips at my throat, then pulls back to suck at the spot. My hands on his back slide down to grab his ass and he groans against my neck, shoving his hips down into mine. _Jesus fucking christ_ . He’s hard and I’m hard and he’s grinding against me, cock sliding against mine, and he’s so hot down there. I’ve never felt him so warm anywhere else. This is the farthest we’ve ever gone, and it’s incredible. Even more incredible than going all the way with Agatha. _Why am I thinking about Agatha right now?_

There’s heat pooling in my gut, and as Baz moves his mouth down my neck, across my collarbone, lower, to suck on my nipple. I’m going to come soon if we don’t stop. Is he as worked up as I am? I don’t know if I’m ready for this. I yank him back up to my mouth by the hair and kiss him softly, slowly, try to stop moving my hips beneath him. I pull my hand out of Baz’s pants where I’ve been getting acquainted with his bum (and a very nice bum it is), and move it to his hip, trying to communicate. He doesn’t seem to get the message and whimpers into my mouth. I pull back gently. 

“Baz. Hey?”

He’s moved back to my neck, so I tug on his hair until he looks up at me. “Sorry! Sorry what is it?” 

“I just.. Um, maybe we should stop? I don’t know if… if I’m um, ready.”

“Yeah yeah of course” Baz looks flustered. Baz is never flustered. I think he _is_ as worked up as I am. He rolls off of me and I pull him into my side before he can get too far. We sit there a moment, catching our breaths. Then, I yank the covers out from beneath us, tuck us in to our chins, and try to will my erection away so I can hold him easier. He snuggles into my side and kisses my cheek. I can feel him softening against my waist. It’s intimate. Very intimate. I let it be. The quiet sounds of Mozart and Baz’s soft breathing are lulling me to sleep. My eyes are drifting closed.

“Goodnight” he whispers beside me. I’m too tired to respond. “I love you.”

My eyes fly open. Baz nods off against me, and I lie there holding him, staring at the ceiling, all night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Let me know what you think if you feel like it! 
> 
> Also, you can find me on tumblr @deathandcommas :)


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